


I've got all these demons.

by NavyInk



Series: Canon Character Oneshots [1]
Category: DCU, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Bullying, Career Ending Injuries, Dawn - Freeform, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Robin, Donna - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, GAR - Freeform, Give Dick Grayson love, Gore, Hank - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Kory - Freeform, Mentions of Batman - Freeform, Mentions of Death, Mentions of other titans - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Please he deserves it, Violence, injuries, mentions of Bruce Wayne - Freeform, rachel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NavyInk/pseuds/NavyInk
Summary: This is basically just a series of oneshots based around Dick Grayson. Some are based upon the canon comic book works, and some are based around what the Titans TV show made canon for him, but this is just me showing how much D.C. hated Dick Grayson in the comics, and how the show might make some of the worse things canon, and I hate that for him. He deserves better.
Series: Canon Character Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829005
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Adrenaline Junkie.

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: 
> 
> This does talk about emotional manipulation, bullying and death (though it is nothing too descriptive), so please be careful or don't read if those bother you. 
> 
> Also, not all of this is fully canon in the show, but what is not canon in the show is in the comics to Dick Grayson on at least one Earth, so I just combined them to give you a cohesive oneshot. 
> 
> There isn't any speech in this either!

Dick Grayson was the biggest adrenaline junkie you could find.

Maybe growing up at the circus didn't help. He'd had to learn to do flips, and tricks just after he learned to walk and run, and maybe it was that which turned him into one. The screams from the crowd as he readied himself for a dangerous trick; the cheers when he landed perfectly, almost never losing his balance; and the whispers among the audience of how he was one of the youngest and one of the best acrobats they'd ever seen. It could've been that, but when Dick looked back at it, he was still a shy boy at the circus and only really came out of his shell after the _incident_ when he had to.

So, maybe it was his early days in the juvenile system. He hadn't done anything wrong, but after he told the police about what he saw _that_ night, 

they had told him he would have to go into the juvenile system as there was no space left in foster or orphanages in Gotham. At the time, he thought so much about how he'd hate it, but now, he just realised how bad the system must have been for him to have no where else to go.

His young self was right, though, he did hate it. Every kid bigger than him would pick on him, throw him around whenever they could, and hit him, taunting him about how weak he was, and how they didn't understand why he hadn't died off yet. There were nights he could barely sleep with the bruises that littered his back, and the sharp pains in his side whenever he attempted to inhale. Other nights, he spent the whole time in the small hospital wing, unable to go back to his room in case his injuries became worse. There were many times Dick himself wondered how he hadn't died, how his 'weak and pathetic little body' (as his bullies called it), could survive this long, because really... after all of the beatings he took, he figured his body would've given up by now. Looking back on it, though, that wasn't what made Dick Grayson an adrenaline junkie either. By the end of his time there, when he was eleven, he'd learned to throw a few punches, and how to avoid hits better, but he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to have to avoid fights, and he didn't want to be around people who would want to fight him in the first place, so that wasn't it. 

In all reality, it could have only been one thing really. Something he never really talked about, but everyone close to him knew something about it. That was his training with Bruce. At just under twelve years old, Dick had found out that Bruce was the batman, and Bruce offered the poor young boy an ultimatum. He could train and go on to work with Bruce as a side kick, or go back to the juvenile center, and at the time, there was no choice for Dick. That place was nowhere for someone like him, and he didn't think he'd survive going back for... however long it would be until someone else came along and took pity on the boy who was there because there was no room anywhere else. So he chose to train, and those six months were some of the harshest of his life. 

He'd seen his parents killed, watched the circus tent burn, taken beatings after beatings from bullies but he'd never been pushed so far physically. He trained for hours a day, exhausting himself to the point he could barely make it to the shower to clean himself off. Sometimes, he showered in cold water just to keep himself awake, yet at times he even became numb to that. The once harsh splashes on his skin were made redundant, and the repetitive beating of the water on the sides of the shower became soothing to his tired self; often making him almost fall asleep in the shower. Only to be woken up when he felt his body almost slip to the floor. At least he always caught himself - his training was paying off somehow.

That was only one of the things he did. Other times, he would train all night, and have to stay awake during the day, so Bruce could see the boys limits and know how far he could push him before he broke. Dick always remembered his record was four days without sleep, and Bruce never seemed to forget it either. Though Bruce never made him stay awake for more than four days, he would push him just as hard, if not harder, when Dick was lacking on sleep. The boy would sweat, his hair sticking to the back of his neck uncomfortably, and he'd get bruised, his skin littered with dark marks all over, only bruising easier in the last few months of training because he'd bruised that much before, and his knuckles would bleed while practicing punching without anything wrapped around his hands, and Bruce would just tell him to do better. 

Do more, punch quicker, hit harder, use more force, be better. 

Bruce would always tell him the training was to make him above average in everything. He wanted Dick to be like him: seem superhuman, but be completely human. 

He wanted Dick, at twelve years old, to be able to leave bruises and break bones on men any normal citizen would struggle to fight, he wanted Dick to work like a well oiled machine really, and planned, even if he hadn't realised, to turn him into a weapon with all the training and what he wanted. He wanted him to have: peak human strength, speed, agility, reflexes, stamina, endurance, and an indomitable will. 

While Dick didn't have any of those things after his first six months of training to be Robin, he gained them over the years he spent as Robin, with Bruce, going out almost every night to stop crime with people maybe twice his size and weight, and he got them from continuing to push himself. Bruce would never let him stop, but it got to a point where Bruce had told him so many times what he wanted from him, and what he expected Dick to be able to do, that Dick found himself wanting them for himself. So he worked hard to get them, and he still works hard to avoid loosing them, but he barely ever allowed himself rest, constantly training, doing school work and picking fights. 

Eventually, he did get everything Bruce wanted from him, and everything Bruce had convinced him he wanted, and he was happy. He was happy to lose sleep, if it meant he could save people, and Dick, even older, had that mindset still. 

He still believed he would be okay not sleeping for four days, and working throughout them, barely taking a moment for himself. He didn't, and might not ever, realise how bad it is for him, and how what happened was what Bruce planned. 

He never talked about his training, because it was tough on him, more tough than he'd like to admit, and more tough than he'd ever tell anyone. But he never saw that as Bruce being harsh. Even as a young child, it was Bruce keeping him under his wing, and stopping him from going back to the juvenile center. To a naive, emotionally traumatised Dick, Bruce was caring for him, and while at times, Dick wanted more attention, a hug, some support, advice, he still believed Bruce was keeping him safe through training. He felt the same when he was older too, seeing it as Bruce protecting the entire city as well as him, so he never saw how manipulative it was of Bruce. 

Bruce Wayne shouldn't have trained a young Dick to be a weapon. He should've nurtured him, cared for him, and given him the love he should've done as the boys father figure. But instead, he chose to manipulate him, when he was still grieving his parents, and afraid of going back to somewhere he was never safe. So, that's what turned Dick Grayson into an adrenaline junkie. 

Whenever he fought, he felt stronger than he did when he wasn't engaged, and felt as if he could do just about anything. His stomach would never twist, or knot uncontrollably, in the face of danger, and he'd never felt the need to sit down with dizziness in the middle of the fight when punches were thrown, kicks were dodged and positions were changed. If someone reached out to hit him, he'd swiftly move out the way, driving his fist into their abdomen with all the strength he had, and he lived for it, because Bruce Wayne had ensured that was all he knew for his adolescent years. He had known nothing else for so long that when he moved on from Bruce, and lived his own life, he still needed to be a vigilante. 

And none of it was his fault, because he'd been manipulated. 

Everyone around him who knew even a little about his training could see that, and they wished desperately Dick could see that. They wanted him to see how bad it was, and start to take care of himself. At the rate he was working, he would get himself killed and no one wanted that, so they were really trying to help him. Maybe Dick had gotten a little better, and had started to sleep better, he wasn't there yet, and wouldn't be for a long time. But the people close to him, they wanted to see him get better, so they were willing to work and wait. 

And he didn't know it yet, but Dick would be thankful for it eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... maybe it was obvious, but I don't really like Bruce Wayne as person. I think he was a good vigilante, but... after doing some reading on things he did to Dick, and the other Robins too (but it was mostly Dick), I just realised he was awful and used a traumtised kid to help him out and manipulated him to do so. It just doesn't sit right with me and Dick Grayson deserves better. 
> 
> Also if you want to picture people during this, use the Titans cast as that's who I'm imagining and when I say 'show', it's that show I mean. I'd really recommend it for anyone that hasn't seen that interpretation of the comics too, and it's my personal favourite. 
> 
> I can't say this is my best work, but I hope you enjoyed anyway, and I'll try to update this regularly.


	2. Remembered.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This particular chapter has graphic descriptions of violence and wounds, blood, threat, DARK thoughts (about after death), the beginning of a panic attack, gun violence, mentions of past psychological and physical torture, and I think that’s it. If not, I apologise and I will add more warnings.

“How do you want to be remembered, Nightwing?” 

It wasn’t exactly an easy question to answer for Dick, even when you have all the time in the world to think about it, but it’s less easier when there was the cold barrel of a gun pressed against your temple. 

“Do you want to be remembered as a hero? You want people to think of Nightwing as their saviour, who pulled people from burning buildings and jumped in front of guns for them? Is that what you want?” 

Dick had no idea what to answer, not even when he knew he had to answer. What did he want to be remembered as? A hero? Just another vigilante? Or nothing? 

“Maybe you should just be remembered as what you are. Another man in another useless mask and cape, running around in tights with sticks as weapons. Nothing more than that, isn’t that right?”

Minus the tights, she wasn’t exactly wrong. That was all Dick was, and Dick wasn’t even particularly good at it compared to other people. He’d let so many people die, hurt so many innocents, became a monster in his pursuit of.. grieving his parents. He may have been a man in a mask, but he was starting to think he didn’t even deserve to be remembered as that. 

“Why aren’t you responding? Is it because I haven’t guessed right yet?” The woman hummed, removing the barrel from Dick’s temple to trace the shape of it with her other, free hand. “Maybe you don’t want to be remembered as anything, maybe you want to be nothing and remembered as just that.” 

She was right, and she knew it: he didn’t need him to confirm it. She’d held Dick prisoner for almost three days now, and she’d spent the entire time making him feel inferior. Dick could with stand a lot - including brainwashing - but being told his flaws, as well as ones he didn’t even think he had, wasn’t one of them. He hated himself enough without this, and he couldn’t help but become tense when she mentioned just what he thought he deserved. 

“I see I’m right then,” she chuckled, and it was too happy for the situation they were in. “You are nothing, Nightwing, and you will always be nothing. There isn’t a thing you can do to change that. No amount of people you can save; no amount of bullets you can take; and no amount of bad guys you put in jail can ever change that. You should know that.”

He did know that, and if he was being honest, he had since he become Robin at aged twelve. He was always nothing, especially compared to Batman. Then aliens rained from the sky, and he was nothing compared to them. Then he met the titans, and they were all.. good people, who were working to be even better, fix their flaws and he was nothing compared to them. Now, he had a loving girlfriend, and a family of people he loved. More than anything. Yet he was still nothing compared to them, and the people they are. 

“Shut up,” was all Dick mumbled, glaring at her. “You don’t need to keep telling me, I already know.” 

“Stop sucking all the fun out of it.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you already know but I take pleasure in breaking you more, and making you feel as pathetic as possible and as weak as possible before I finally kill you.” 

“What a mercy killing.” 

“Actually, it is. I could let you bleed out and die in the most painful way possible. I could even gut you if I wanted. But I won’t. I’ll make you suffer, a lot more than I already have, and then I’ll end you, quickly and smoothly.” 

As much as Dick hated himself, he really didn’t want to die. After all, he still had his family to get back too, and he refused to leave them behind. So he tugged on the restraints, again and again. He used all of his strength to do so, all while the woman say and watched him, grinning away to herself as she had finally bested Nightwing. 

Eventually, Dick stopped pulling, but it was only when the cuffs had began to cut into the skin around his wrist. 

“Look at that, I don’t even have to do anything to you. You do it all yourself while trying to escape.” She walked away from him, and placed the gun down on the side, using her hands to ghost over something in front of her that Dick couldn’t see. It was silent for a moment, before she turned. “I think I’ll leave you for now... enjoy your dinner.” 

With that, she left, closing the door and trapping Dick in there with nothing but the cold, a little bit of candle light and his dinner... which were dead rats. 

He refused to eat them though, not because he wanted to starve but because Bruce made him eat rats as part of his training, and eating them now would bring back too many traumatic memories for him to deal with when so much else is going on. 

That would’ve sent Dick into a spiral he wouldn’t come back from, and he would’ve had to eat with his mouth only, given his hands were tied behind his back. He didn’t want to do that. 

Though he would eventually have to cave, but he was going to hold back for as long as possible, because maybe he’d expect before he had to eat rats again. Maybe. Just... maybe. 

It wasn’t likely though, not at the moment. 

She’d left his mask on, but had scratched all around his face, leaving his cheeks covered stained, dried blood. His upper body was bruised badly too, beaten and bleeding from at least six cuts. None of them were deep enough for him to bleed out before she came back; they still ached, and the sharp sting of the cold air wasn’t helping either. 

His legs... weren’t a sight to be seen either. His outfit was ripped in so many places, exposing where she’d beaten him, cut him, and electrocuted him. 

There was one cut that stood out to him, and it ran from half way up his run fo his knee. Not deep, but long and painful. She’d made it about an hour ago now, yet it was still pouring with blood. Gushing with crimson. 

Dick had seen so many horrific things in his life, and somehow, something about this cut was still putting him off. Maybe it was the odd jagged edges the blade made against his skin, or perhaps it was the thickness of the blood that told him how dehydrated he was (he had only had a few sips in the last three days), or maybe it was simply that the fact the blood had not clotted at the wound just showed him how hungry he was His body wasn’t even working efficiently anymore. 

His head was spinning too, around and around, slowly picking up speed the more he tried not to focus on it. Pounding, and throbbing, his headache only worsened in what felt like mere seconds, like the pain that was in one place had suddenly spread to everywhere else. 

Suffocating. 

He now felt like he was suffocating, and he was left gasping for air, desperately trying to sort out his breathing but failing. He couldn’t breathe. His throat was closing up, refusing to take in anymore air. 

Drowning. 

This all felt too similar to when he almost drowned, so similar he felt like he was drowning again, and again and again. It wouldn’t stop, not to him, it just kept happening. 

Dying. 

Was he dying? No, he couldn’t have been. There was no way. He’s survived much worse than this, so he could survive this too. He had to survive this. For everyone. He needed too. He couldn’t let them down and be even more of a disappointment to everyone. He hated himself but people relied on him and he refused to let them down - ever. 

He wasn’t dying. 

Was he? 

He couldn’t have been. 

Could he? 

Those were his last thoughts, before the room finally stopped sobbing, only for everything to go black and him to fall forward. 

Falling forward... room spinning... dying. 

Those were his last thoughts, but suddenly, he jolted up, opening his eyes and gasping for breath. Surprisingly,, at least to him, he could breathe again, easily... normally, without having to gasp. He took another breath, slower this time, and then another, before he finally was breathing at an average rate again. It didn’t hurt, either. 

Come to think of it, he wasn’t in as much pain as before either. His brain wasn’t throbbing back and forth in his head now. His body wasn’t aching anymore, or.. it wasn’t aching as much. 

He brought his hands up to his head to check for wounds, but gasped upon realising he could move his hands. They weren’t stuck behind his back anymore. They were... in front of him, and he was in a completely different place. 

Taking a second, Dick let his eyes adjust and he realised he was in hospital, safe in hospital. Unaware of how he got there, he reached out to ring the bell that summoned a nurse when he heard someone sigh in relief. 

Slowly, he looked over, still wary of his surroundings, though his entire body relaxed and his face lit up when he saw amore standing there, a small bottle of water in hand. She’d clearly been drinking it and now he could see in the corner of his eye there were lots of other bottles like that. She must’ve been here a while. 

Of course she had. This was amore, who worries about Dick no matter what he does. She does have good reason too, though, given what transpired over the last few days. 

“Dick! You’re awake, you’re okay, you’re awake!” She cried out, running towards him. She stopped when she was close enough, though and wrapped her arms carefully around him, almost as if she was curious if he’d say no and push her away. He didn’t though, and he melted into her embrace happily, wanting to be held by amore right now. “I’m so glad you were awake, and so soon too. We had no idea when you were gonna wake up, but you’re awake now and it’s... so good to see you awake and smiling.” 

Dick made his smile a little wider hearing that, and hearing the genuine happiness in her voice. Yet, he said nothing. He didn’t want to, and he knew amore would understand that. 

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her too, careful not to catch any of his cute, and pulled her closer. 

Amore let out a sigh, whether it was one of relief or tiredness, Dick had no idea and he doubted she did either, but she began to gently run her hand up and down his back. 

“If this gets painful, tell me, or indicate it to me in some way and I’ll stop. I just want to support you right now.” 

Dick nodded against her, and he knew she’d feel it as his head was resting softly against her shoulder. 

“And don’t feel pressured to say anything either. I know what you’re like when you’re hurting and that’s fine. Whatever makes you feel better but I just want you to know I’m here, and I love you, no matter what so please don’t push me away. You don’t have to talk about it but don’t isolate yourself. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you, even if that’s just cuddles.” 

Dick was silent and motionless for another moment, long enough for amore to place a kiss on his cheek. But he finally nodded again, and smiled a little more. 

“I will,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! <3


	3. June 10th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not my best piece of writing, I’ll admit. It’s just something I wanted to write after getting the inspiration today, and so I did. It could be better, fluff is not my thing, but I wanted to post it anyway. Besides, it’s mainly for @wowsheshot anyway. Amore is her character.

Light was blazing in through the partially opened blinds, and the sweet summer breeze crept in through the window. That was enough for amore, being a light sleeper, and so she stirred away, shifting in her position so she was lying on her back. Slowly, she opened her eyes and glanced around the room, noticing immediately Dick wasn’t there. 

It wasn’t unusual or anything. Dick was Dick, he was sometimes up early, and stayed awake later, but she was hoping for morning cuddles on her birthday. At least. 

With a small pout, she sat up, and rubbed her eyes, trying to remove any sleep from it. Just as she did, though, she heard the door creak open. She looked up, and smiled as soon as she saw Dick at the door, with a tray in his hands, quietly walking in. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, softly, still in his hoarse morning voice. Clearly he hadn’t been awake for long. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” 

Amore hummed. “No, actually... I woke up by myself, just now.” 

Dick smiled softly at her, and sat down at the end of the bed, placing the tray in her lap. 

“Good, I’m glad. I didn’t want you to be awake and lonely for too long on your birthday. But I wanted to get up early to... y’know, make you something special on your birthday.”

“You made me something?” Amore asked softly. 

“Alright, Cam helped me make it. I was... not going to ruin your birthday first thing on a morning with my cooking,” he replied, chuckling gently at the smile that grew wider on her face. “But I came up with the idea.”

“And I appreciate it, really, thank you...” she leaned over the tray, and pecked his lips softly. “Stay with me while I eat?” 

“Where else would I go?” He whispered, climbing over to his side of the bed, next to her. 

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, making sure nothing on the tray spilled over. He pulled her hair out of her face, not that she needed it, he just wanted an excuse to play with her hair. He knew she loved that, and he wanted to make her nothing but happy on her birthday. 

Well, any day really, but especially on her birthday. 

Amore looked down at her plate of food, and with a content sigh, she began to eat as he played with her hair. He’d made her, or rather asked cam to make her, a simple English breakfast. But breakfast in bed to someone who worked so hard was a treat no matter what the food was, plus Amore loved it. Cam was a great cook. 

They sat in silence for a while; Dick not wanting to disturb Amore while she was eating, and Amore enjoying her food too much. 

Once she was done though, she gently pushed the tray away from her, and turned to Dick, looking up at him with love in her eyes. 

“Thank you, Dick, really. That was thoughtful, and the food was lovely.” 

“You should thank Cam, too, he did make the food after all.” Dick hummed softly and kissed her head. “Now, you have presents in the living room and I promised I’d take you there after breakfast.” 

Amore chuckled softly, and stood up with Dick, leaving the room just before him, as he grabbed the plate and followed after. She walked straight towards the living room where most members of the titans, and her family, were sitting. Dick placed the tray in the kitchen to be washed up later, and sat down next to Amore. 

There was a fairly large pile of presents next to the couch, all of them neatly wrapped, and some were even decorated with bows. Though wrapping was always discarded, it was nice for Amore to see how people had put such thought into her gift wrapping. 

For a few minutes, everyone sang happy birthday to her, wished her it individually and let her open cards. They were all sweet, each one of them. Including Gar, even though he wasn’t as close as others with Amore, his cars was sweet. But that was just who Gar was. 

When Dick handed his to Amore, he sat back to get ready to give her the first present while she read his card. 

His card said:

‘To,  
Amore.  
I love you, so much, and I’m so glad that I met you, and that I get to celebrate today with you. I want to appreciate you today, because you deserve that, at the least. Happy birthday, love, and I hope you have the best day you can today. Let me know if you need anything.  
Love, Dick Grayson.’ 

Dick was always good at making someone he was close to feel happy, or better about themselves, even if he was a... little awkward at first when he met people. But this card was proof of that. Amore was already happy, but she felt even better after all of those cards, especially his. She’d never be able to thank him enough for always doing that. 

As she placed the card down, she thanked him, like she did the rest of them, and took the first present from his hand. It was signed in a messy, scribbled writing, that Amore could, thankfully, still make out. It said ‘From Nikko’ 

She smiled at that. She hadn’t expected anything from him, since he was only the boyfriend of someone she was close to. But he’d gotten her something, and that was sweet. 

She opened it, and noticed a small card fall out, so she carefully picked it up, and read it. All it said was: ‘I wanted to get you something since you helped me and taro get together, and he thinks you’re really nice... so. But I had no idea what to get you, and I asked taro, and he said you like makeup. I got you the nicest lipstick I could find that I think you’d look good in.” 

And it was, indeed, a very nice lipstick. 

Dick went to hand her the next present, but Cam stopped him with a loud, “WAIT!”

They all turned to look at cam, raising their brows curiously. 

“Dylan told me to give you this,” he smiled and took a present from his side, placing it in Amore’s lap. “He wanted to give you it, and said it’s nothing much so don’t be too disappointed. I think that’s being ridiculous, his gifts are great.” 

“Tell him I said thank you if you see him the next time before I do,” she hummed gently and unwrapped the present. 

It was a soft jumper, that was going to be oversized, and she smiled. She hadn’t expected anything from Dylan either. 

As she continued to unwrap the presents, her smile only grew. People had gotten her makeup, clothes, some cooking books with dishes she didn’t know, some things for her guitar, jewellery. Everything she loved. 

Dick kissed her head, and told her give her his other present later that night. She’d already opened one from him, and it was a necklace, with an expensive looking stone on the end that had been placed on the end of a silver chain. There was no need for another one right now, at least not his eyes. 

So, the rest of the day went on with everyone happy and celebrating. They had baked a cake for Amore, her favourite flavour, and decorated it in sprinkles and coloured frosting. Which Joy and Cam had done together, wanting to help out in some way, since Dick had done most of the planning this year. Once that was done, they all - they bring the Cheng sisters, Cam and Dick - decided to watch a movie, something they hadn’t really ever done. But it was something a family would do, and dick wanted Amore to feel loved and appreciated by her family on her birthday. 

Cheesy, but true, and he wasn’t ashamed of that. 

After the movie was done, it was later in the day, and they all decided to just relax, rather than force a longer celebration when there was nothing else to do together. They all wished Amore happy birthday once more, and seeing them cuddling together was so gentle. The way Joy and Lux looked up to Amore, loved her was... so obvious to Dick when they hugged. It was nice to see, nice that they were all part of their little family now. 

Time crept by then again, and before either Dick or Amore knew it, it was almost night time. Or it already was, it just didn’t look it outside because the sun was still shining brightly as it set in the distance. The days were longer after all 

They were lying in bed now, Amore’s head on Dick’s chest, with Dick’s arm wrapped around her as he played with her hair again. She was so comfortable and content there, and she knew she didn’t need to move anywhere. She could stay there as long as she wanted, and she was going to. There was always a sense of safety and comfort being held by Dick Grayson, because it was obvious he wanted you to feel better, he always tried to make you feel better with hugs, and even when she didn’t need that, the feeling was nice. 

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” He asked in a hushed whisper, out of the blue. 

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I?” She replied. 

“Well I didn’t know if you’d like it or not. Or if you maybe wanted a party, a more extravagant celebration. You know... so I was just hoping you’d like it.”

“I’ll always like my birthday when I get you celebrate it with all of you.” She smiled softly, kissing his jaw - it was all she could reach with how she was lying. 

“That’s... sweet, but if you don’t wanna celebrate your birthday next year like that, tell me, okay?” 

“Okay, I will... but I also trust you to do what you think is best for a surprise next year. If I wanna celebrate it a certain way, though, I will tell you.” 

Dick smiled, then his eyes lit up. “Oh that reminds me.” He said, and pulled away slightly to reach under the bed and hand Amore the last present. 

It was a white box with a bow around it, nothing else. Though, it was fairly flat, and wide. She wondered what it could be. 

When she opened it, she was greeted with the front of an album cover. A photo album cover. Gently, she reached out and opened it, smiling at what was inside on the first page. A note to Amore from everyone who’d put a few photos in the book. It was... adorable, and nothing like what she was expecting. 

“It was a joint gift, we all contributed and gave photos, write notes and helped design it. But since it was my idea and I paid for it, they wanted me to give you it. But I wanted you to know, it’s equally from everyone.” 

“Oh, Dick,” Amore mumbled as she flicked through a few of the first pages. So many photos. Happy photos. Important, memorable photos. She turned to him. “I love it, I love you.” 

Dick looked down at her, his eyes full of love, and smiled. “I love you too,” he whispered. “And I’m glad you like it.” 

“I love it, Dick. It’s beautiful. Just like everything else I got today.” 

Even later that night, when 10pm had passed, they were still in the same place, cuddling. Comfortable. Happy. Content. Though, now Amore was asleep, with her arms wrapped around Dick securely, and the blanket wrapped around her. He was still awake, just thinking, for a little while, but eventually figured he should go to sleep he’d likely be up early tomorrow, and he didn’t want to be tired. He already, sort of, was. 

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head as he shifted ever so slightly to get comfortable enough to sleep nicely. 

“Goodnight, dummy,” Amore mumbled, a sleepy smile on her face as Dick had stirred away awake with his movements. But that was okay, she was back to sleep in the next moment anyway. 

Dick smiled. He loved Amore, and he was so glad she was happy today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! <3


	4. Dirty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick Grayson isn’t feeling great after what happens with Tarantula and Blockbuster, and he’s not healing to well either. Mostly because he’s not trying to, he’s trying to ignore it because he thinks it’ll go away. Sometimes, to be reminded that it won’t, and that he needs to care for himself, all it takes it a little company and support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter does not mention the specific act, but it does reference the tarantula incident once and most of the chapter is based around how it’s taking a toll on him. So, while it does not directly mention what happened (mainly because Dick does not like to think about it much, or the specifics), please be wary when reading this chapter if rape/non con triggers you because it is implied.

Dick Grayson felt dirty. But not the regular mind of dirty. Not the kind of feeling that was just from some of his opponents blood splashing against his face; not the kind that came from his blood slightly staining the inside of his suit; and not the kind of feeling that he felt when he was sweaty, exhausted from training or actual work. They could be washed away easily, a quick shower. But this wasn’t even the dirtiness that came from betrayal, from having the trust you took so long to build up torn away from you while the rug from underneath you was ripped away. That took longer to wash away, like this feeling did, but this feeling was different. 

No matter how many showers he took, no matter how many times he scrubbed at the skin until it was raw, and at times drew blood, he never felt clean. He’d covered himself in aftershave, deodorants, even Amore’s perfume, hoping (and desperately praying) they’d make him feeling better, fresher. But no. All he wanted to do was tear his skin off, replace it with something better, something that kept him safer, and cleaner and didn’t get dirty. What that was... he wasn’t sure. He knew he couldn’t literally replace his skin, of course he did, but he also knew he did need something that made this feeling better. 

Maybe he could’ve lived with it if that feeling was only affecting him, but it was affecting his daily life and other people were noticing. His insomnia had only gotten worse with the feeling, and his sleep became dependant on so many things being there, and so many things not happening, that there was hardly ever a time it occurred. Now he was just working himself, pushing himself, driving himself further over the edge until he passed out on his bed every few nights. It was unhealthy, and thankfully he knew it, but... he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t sleep when he felt covered in filth, as if he was suffocating. 

Dick knew (and still does know) how important it is to eat, that’s why he never skipped meals. Someone like him needs a lot of intake to keep muscle mass and strength. But sometimes, more just when it’s raining or has just finished, he couldn’t eat. It didn’t matter what is put in front of him, he couldn’t bring himself to eat without feeling physically sick. It’s nothing to do with the food - not at all, Amore is a great cook - but whenever this happened, he already felt ready to vomit, so the thought of digesting food just made it worse, so much worse. He knew if he actually ate the food, he would vomit. So he pushed the plate to one side, claimed he wasn’t hungry yet and that he’d eat it later. 

At least, in his defence, he did always eat it later. When it had been hours since the last bit of rainfall, or when the rain had stopped, he sat down by himself in the living room and ate. The food was always great, and he always ended up loving it, but he never regretted eating it then because he knew how bad it would’ve been if he’d eaten if before. 

Other people noticed that too, sometimes they asked him about it, and though he had just brushed it off, he hated that they saw it. He was supposed to be this strong, fearless leader, who looked out and cared for everyone, who never showed weakness. But he had, and they’d seen it. All because he let how he was feeling, how dirty he felt control him. 

At least... 

At least the day following that event (he liked to call it that at the time, made him feel less like he was letting his emotions control him), was always nice. Even if he hadn’t been eventually worried the night before, Dick knew she was. In the way her eyebrows knitted together whenever she looked at him during dinner, in the way her eyes grew sad seeing the unusually full plate in front of him, and in the way she’d supportive rub his back of squeeze his shoulder when dinner was finished. But, once she saw the next day he had actually eaten it later, she always looked so relieved. That’s what made it nice. The look of happiness on her face when she saw her boyfriend was still trying to take care of himself. 

Because Amore knew he felt dirty, and she knew exactly why. After they’d gotten intimate shortly after the rooftop incident, he’d panicked, had to leave quickly to get some air on the balcony. Honestly, he hadn’t expected Amore to follow him, but she had. She followed him, calmed him, shushed him, held him, whispered sweet nothings into his ear until the tears he didn’t even know he’d let spill over stopped. He didn’t talk for a while, but in the mean time, she stroked his hair and held his hand, being oh so patient. 

When that was over, he kind of just let everything slip out. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, in fact he was planning on keeping it to himself and getting over it. No one needed to know what had happened to him. But regardless, it all slipped out anyway and Amore... well, she was mad. Not at him. At her. At what she’d done to Dick, and how he’d hurt him so badly. Yet, despite her anger, she held Dick close and thanked him for telling her, saying she was proud he could because it couldn’t have been easy. She assured him she was never going to be upset with him, and recovering from this would take time, so if they needed to take things slow for a while, she understood. 

He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to. He didn’t want to have to change their relationship to cater to him, it was supposed to be a two way street, that he knew. But all Amore had done was told him she was agreeing to this, so it was a two way street. It’s not like Dick had randomly pulled away, he talked to her about it and Amore knew, so of course she was okay with doing whatever Dick needed for recovering. 

Dick was more thankful for her saying that than Amore will ever know. Of course, it didn’t make his recovery faster. But it made it easier. He still felt dirty, still struggled to sleep properly at all anymore, struggled to eat when it was raining, or... so much when it was raining, but someone knew It was one less person constantly asking if he was okay, because she knew he wasn’t. So instead, she did things she knew helped him feel better. Played music, talked to him, played her guitar, made him laugh, but on his favourite happy films. 

She also assured him that no matter how much he believed this affecting him was a weakness, that it wasn’t. It was human. He didn’t believe her at first, and he was still struggling to now, but it... was helping. 

“Hey Dick?” A voice called out. Rachel. “Dick, you in here?” 

Dick was brought back to reality quickly, not even realising he’d slipped so far away into his own thoughts. He didn’t even know why he’d begun to think about all of that, his feelings, what they were doing to him, yet he had. Perhaps, it was because yesterday was a particularly bad day. Raining from midday to midnight, so he could barely eat and definitely couldn’t sleep. 

Regardless of that, he had to be here in the moment now. Rachel needed to speak to him. 

“Yeah?” His voice came out a little too quiet for his liking, so he cleared his throat. “Yeah, Rachel, I’m in here.”

“Oh,” she said when she turned a corner, fully stepping into the training room of the tower. “Sorry, you said you were going for a training session but I couldn’t hear you. Thought you might’ve left.”

“I... did say that, didn’t I?” He cleared his throat. He didn’t look like he’d been training, so he couldn’t even lie and say he’d just finished. “Anyway, what did you need?” 

“Two things actually...” she smiled. “Gar thinks he broke something in his TV, and said he figures you probably know what to do, so can you take a look at that, and Amore made you some lunch, so I’m here to bring it to you.” 

She extended her arm, and handed him a bag. It was packed like a mother would pack their kids lunch for school, wrapped safely so nothing fell out. Dick took it from her gently and smiled back at her. 

“Thanks, I’ll go look at Gar’s TV first, and then do some training, then I’ll eat after, replenish my energy.” 

“Don’t you think you should eat first?”

“I’ll throw up if I eat then train, and I’d rather not do that.”

“Okay, so eat, fix the TV and then train. Please?

“Why do you want me to eat so desperately, Rachel? I can eat after and I’ll be fine.”

“Because, Dick, yesterday you didn’t eat much in the afternoon and I’m worried. You don’t always take care of yourself the best and I don’t want to see you get hurt... and if you do, I want to help. So eat up before you get hurt. You don’t even have to eat all of it, just some... but we both know Amore is a great cook.”

Dick chuckled gently. Yes she was, and he couldn’t resist her cooking. Besides, Rachel was right... he should eat something now, let it settle then train and eat again afterwards. 

“That she is,” he mused quietly. “Alright, fine, I’ll eat now, and fix the TV in between now and training.”

“Good. I’ll let Gar know-“

“Oh, by the way, why didn’t he come see me himself?”

“He’s with Cam, playing some game since he can’t play in his room with the TV broke. So he asked me to go while he finished the game.”

Dick smiled. That was sweet. 

“Hey Dick,” Rachel said, her tone suddenly a little more serious than before. Dick’s smile fell slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a vigilante who almost gets killed every night.”

“That’s nothing,” Dick shrugged. “For me, at least, I’ve been doing this since I was a kid and I’ve never actually died.” 

“Well, yeah I know but there’s a chance you could every night, and it’s way higher than other people’s chances of dying.”

“I’m fine, Rachel, really I-“

“And you’ve been through a lot. Just even the circus, what you saw, being a vigilante since you were eleven. That’s a lot. I can see it in your eyes... I’m good at reading people.” Rachel said quietly, not wanting to upset Dick by mentioning everything, simply wanting to know if he truly is okay. 

“I know you are.” Dick replied shortly, before realising that was probably rude. “I appreciate your concern Rachel, trust me, I do... it’s just complicated and definitely not something I want to discuss.”

Rachel looked slightly disheartened, but nodded anyway. She made a move to leave before Dick spoke again. 

“I will be fine, Rachel. Even if I’m not now and don’t take offence to me not wanting to talk about this. It’s nothing against you. The situation is a lot to process, for anyone, and it’s especially hard for me to talk about that. Please appreciate that.”

“I do. I just want you to be okay Dick. I don’t want to rush you. I’d never do that. But I want you to be okay and to talk to me if you need, like I do with you. Or am trying to do.” 

Dick softened a little at that, even if he didn’t realise, but hearing that from someone other than Amore was nice. Amore’s reassurances were great, like he was thinking before, and made things easier, yes. But someone else saying it, who was on his team, was the confirmation that they wouldn’t - or at least Rachel wouldn’t - think less of him for not being okay. Since they only wanted him to be okay for him. Not because he had to be their perfect leader. 

At least that’s what he hoped it meant. 

“Thanks, Rachel, I’ll try. Promise,” he said softly. Though Dick said promise a lot, he kept them all and the ones he broke upset him, so Rachel knew he meant it. “And I’ll eat now, then Gar’s room, and how about after... we watch an episode of Game of Thrones together instead of me training?”

Game of Thrones was something Rachel enjoyed on her own. But, they watched it together whenever they wanted to spend time with each other, or needed to spend time with one another, or just anyone. It was their way of silently saying it. 

So, naturally, Rachel beamed at the request and nodded her head with a small laugh. 

“Sure of course. I’ll be waiting in my room, just knock when you’re ready,” she stated, before heading off, content that Dick was at least trying. 

Dick Grayson felt dirty. That hadn’t changed. He felt dirty and no amount of cleaning he did was ever going to make that go away. But... he was beginning to think there were other ways of feeling better again. Because now he had two people believing in him, routing for him, and while that certainly fixed nothing, it reminded him he didn’t have to be perfect to be supported. Something he needed to be reminded of, even by himself, more often. So... he naturally felt better, even just a bit. Maybe, just maybe, the hope he’d slowly readjust and move past this, be stronger because of it, was growing. Hopefully that dirt would fade with time, he just had to late himself heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! <3


	5. Angst Alphabet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is simply an angst alphabet for Dick Grayson. It is quite angsty and I wrote it to the best of my ability even if it isn’t an actual piece of writing. I mention things from both the shows and the comics, so I hope it isn’t too confusing. Anyway! Yes, angst alphabet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter does also mention tarantula, so please be careful! I don’t go into description, and only mention it by saying the ‘tarantula incident’ because I know describing it could trigger people, even if I just mention the name. So I wanted to be careful, but please still do be careful if you know what happened with her!

A - Anger (what makes them angry? How do they deal with the anger?)

Dick usually gets angry when people do bad things. Not like when people commit a theft just to feed their family (he saw that a lot in Gotham), but if someone kills an innocent person, or hurts them. He gets even angrier if it’s a child. So to cope, he’ll usually stop them as Nightwing or he’ll train a little /too/ much that night. He never normally talks to people when he’s angry either, feeling like he can’t, so it usually means he’ll just punch a bit harder, or fight more aggressively. 

B - Bad Habits (what bad habits do they have?)

Not sleeping is the main one. Sometimes he can’t help it because he tries and he physically cannot sleep, but other time he refuses to, or feels like he’ll miss something if he does. But he also doesn’t talk to people about his problems. He thinks he’ll be a burden, or hurt them by doing so, plus he thinks he will be seen as weaker in their eyes which he sees as a failure. So he really hates talking to people. 

C - Can’t (what can’t they do? Is it a moral thing or some skill they just never learned?)

Dick can’t not help people. He feels pity, and he just wants to give them a chance. He “can’t resist a bird with a broken wing” and has a thing especially for healing children. He can’t not. He also can’t not save someone, and can’t leave them behind. He always wants to save everyone if they need it, even if it means fighting ten guys who are stronger than him. He’ll do it so they can play. But skill wise, he can’t play an instrument. It’s not a practical skill so Bruce never let him learn. 

D - Death (How do they die? With family or alone? How does their partner find out?)

It’s different for different universes. Sometimes he’s killed by the joker, versions of him die on missions, other die in any of the crises. Sometimes alone, sometimes with people. But I like to think about the world where he settles down with a partner and dies peacefully of old age surrounded by his family. 

E - Embarrassed (what embarrasses them?)

Anything he sees as himself being weak or himself failing. If he cannot help someone, that’s a failure and he feels embarrassed about it because he shouldn’t be failing. It’s like Rachel says in the beginning of season 2 of titans, she doesn’t tell Dick she’s struggling because he’ll see he’s a failure and that’s embarrassing to him. Also, like I mentioned before, he’s embarrassed of getting upset, or afraid, and needing to talk about it. 

F - Fake (what do they fake? An emotion? A lack of emotions?)

Well, when he’s feeling sad, he usually fakes being happy and okay when around others. He also... fakes being a well put together person for the most part. He’s a great leader and optimistic in those terms, but he has his breaking points and cannot be that positive all the time but he acts like he is for the sake of others. He pretends to always know what he’s talking about but there’s times he doesn’t. It’s not that often, but it happens. 

G - Guilty (what do they feel guilty about? why?)

Failing to save people, the Jericho incident, not telling the team, any time he thinks he abandoned someone (specifically Rachel in season one after he realised she was genuinely hurt by him leaving), letting his parents die, not avenging their deaths sooner, but also avenging their deaths in the way he did, for letting people from Haly’s die because of what he did. A lot of things, really, and it’s mostly because he thinks it’s his fault, or that he could’ve done better so something else could’ve happened or something else could not have happened. 

H - Heartbreak (how did they deal with heartbreak? which time effected them the most?)

His parents death effected him the most. I mean, he saw them die, and still has nightmares about it at times, and can’t always bring himself to talk about them. He was only young when he experienced that heartbreak, and it did break him. With Bruce, he couldn’t even mourn properly because Bruce made him channel the anger over accepting it. So, when he left Bruce’s side, he really struggled since he was suddenly overwhelmed with the sadness. He could not cope properly. 

I - Insecure (what are their insecurities?)

His emotions. Yeah, he’s insecure about how much he feels upset over. But, he’s also insecure about his fears, since most of them stem from his own experiences that he struggles to share. He’s not really insecure about much else since he knows he’s skilled, and knows he does know a lot. 

J - Jealous (what makes them feel jealous of others?)

When they talk about normal childhood experiences, because he never really got that. Yes, he had a good life money wise compared to others in Gotham, but he never really got a normal childhood like lots of other people. He never got to bond with Bruce either, which, after he was adopted, was all he wanted to do. He gets jealous other people got that and he didn’t. But he doesn’t show it, or tell anyone, because that feels selfish. 

K - Kill (what have they killed? any people? dreams? an animal?)

He likes to hope he’s never killed someone’s dream, because that would be cruel. But he has killed people, accidentally and indirectly of course, because he will never actually kill someone. He left the mobster that killed his parents for dead, and yes he regrets it, but that led to his death. So it was indirect. He followed Jericho and engaged with a fight in Slade, which almost got him killed and actually got Jericho killed. Of course that was Slade’s fault, not Dick’s, but Dick sees it as a death he caused accidentally. 

L - Lost (what have they lost?)

His parents, his family, his happy life, his chance at a normal life, his chance at a normal childhood, and he believed for a while he lost his chance to get married and settle down happily. Who’d want to marry him, especially with the life he leads?

M - Memory (what’s their best and worst memories?)

When he helped save Rachel is one of his best, he calmed her down, and she felt safe but... the times with his parents are also one of the best. Whether they were practicing for a show or spending time together. But some of his worst memories are the first time he was seriously injured on the job, or the first training session with Bruce he had, along with the Tarantula incident. Even if he doesn’t like to admit that was as bad at it was, it’s still one of, if not his worst, memory. 

N - Nightmare (do they have them? what are they about? Reactions?)

Yes, he gets them. He goes through phases where he gets them a lot and others where he doesn’t have them at all, or very little. These phases can be triggered by someone saying something, or just because he’s feeling particularly down one day. He has then about his parents death, nights and training sessions as Robin, the Jericho incident, what could’ve happened if Rachel’s father had managed to keep them all on the ‘dark side’, and the tarantula incident. He gets them for a lot of reasons. 

O - Obsolete (do they feel like they’ve been replace or could/should be? Do they feel like they aren’t useful?)

100%! Dick felt like he was replaced by both Jason and Tim. He doesn’t care as much once he has his new identity and isn’t having an identity crisis, but he feels like he was replaced because Bruce didn’t even give them a new identity. They were Robin, same costume and name, nothing changed. Even though Dick picked the name for personal reasons and it was specific for him, Bruce gave the mantle to them like it was nothing and Dick meant nothing. So he felt replaced and obsolete then, but he does not think he should’ve been and knows he is useful. 

P - Past (how has their past change them, has it made them better or worse?)

It’s a mix of both. Dick Grayson is a great person, selfless, brave, a hero, caring, understanding and loving, because that’s what his parents were and Bruce wasn’t, so he wants to be like that for other people. But, Dick has bad coping mechanisms (ie training more/not sleeping/going out as Nightwing more), doesn’t like to talk about his emotions to avoid being selfish and seeing certain things as a failure or weak because of his past and that’s not good for him. 

Q - Question (do they question themselves a lot? do other question them? Do they question others?)

Dick is the leader of the titans, so he does question his own choices. If they were right or wrong. Never in the field, of course, but sometimes at night he does. Others definitely do as well because he’s their leader and they don’t always agree with him. He will also question others if he thinks they’re wrong entirely, or if the plan is going to get too many people hurt. 

R - Regret (what do they regret in life)

Not finding a better way to avenge his parents, because it got people from Haly’s killed later. He also regrets not trying to catch his parents more. He hates that of he’d just tried a little harder, maybe they could’ve grabbed the bar. 

S - Snake (have they ever betrayed someone? ever been betrayed? How did they react?)

He feels like he betrayed Rachel when he almost left her, Jericho because he lied to him for a while, even if he was okay when he knew, and he feels like he betrayed the titans for keeping it from them. 

T - Tears (what makes them cry?)

Nightmares, losing people mostly, or whenever he has panic attacks. Not much can make him cry, as he knows how to stop himself so he will to feel better about himself. But those things do. 

U - unmovable (What opinion will never change, not matter what goes against them?)

You do not hurt or use children. He did once with Jericho and felt so bad when he found out, he had to make it up to him, and only wanted to help. He never meant to hurt him even if he was using him to get to Slade. So when he realised he really had, he made it up to him and fixed the hurt, but he will never hurt a child again because he never wanted to at first. 

V - Vicious (what makes them vicious, do they try to hide it or overcome it?)

This feels repetitive purely because it’s people who hurt children. He will never hide the fact he hates people who purposely hurt children, or don’t care about them. It makes him vicious, and no he does not hide it, or overcome it. 

W - Weak (what makes them feel weak? How do they avoid it?)

He feels weak when he cries, or fails, or gets hurt. Most of that is Bruce’s fault with the conditioning and how he raised him, but Dick has never been able to break the pattern. So even now, as an adult, Dick feels weak and pathetic when any of those things happen, and he tries his best to hide it because if anyone else noticed, he’d feel even worse about it, even more weak. He usually avoids it by forcing back tears when he can, and always pushing himself past his limits to avoid failure, and he rarely gets hurt but he cannot avoid it much when it does happen. 

X - X-Ray (what’s going on inside? Both health wise and mentally, are they okay? Do they need some help?)

Health wise, Dick Grayson is fine. He’s probably more than fine. He’s in peak physical condition for a normal human, he doesn’t need help. But mentally, he’s not okay. There’s a lot going on in his brain he refuses to talk about and it takes a tole on him. So yes, he does need help. Maybe not even from a professional, he just needs to be encouraged to let out his emotions because it’s okay. But he needs assistance at times. 

Y - Yearn (what is one thing they want that they know they can’t have?)

He yearns for his parents back. Even if it was only for an hour to talk to them, he just wants to apologise for what happened, for everything he did wrong before and after too. He wants to ask if they’re proud of him, he wants to hear them say they love him and he wants to say it back just once more. It’s something he’s desperate for, but it cannot happen, and he really knows that. 

Z - Zero (what would they do if it were their last moments on earth?)

Spend it with the ones who love him, his family, the ones he loves. He’d tell them all he loves them, and appreciates them more than he can ever put into words and he’d ensure they knew that before his moments ended. Also, he’d apologise for hurting them if he had, and say he never meant to because he knows they don’t deserve to be hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! <3


	6. Survivors guilt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick has a hard time dealing with his parents death even decades after it because he wasn’t allowed to grieve. For a long time it was only anger. That... took its toll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of death and panic attacks, so please be careful if you think that’ll trigger you.

Years had passed since that fateful night at Haly’s circus. A decade, almost two. So many seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks even, had passed and so many things had happened to Dick since. Slowly, he’d fallen in love with a beautiful girl, and had never been happier than he was with her. His bonds with his friends had grown stronger with everything they’d been through, and he’d never felt like his team was more united. He’d grew to care for a few kids, kids who looked up to him, and treated him like they did. It made him happy... he wanted to help kids. Help people. 

Yet, that night still haunted him. Haunted his dreams in the late hours of the night, haunted his mind throughout the day. There was no escaping it - and he knew that. As sad as it was, he’d never truly expected to get over it, even as a child he knew this night would never leave, it would hurt forever. 

Dick was never going to complain it still hurt. In fact, he’d be more than worried if it stopped hurting completely. All he wanted was to get over the guilt that was gnawing inside of him even when he tried not to think about it. 

The guilt would make his stomach backflip at the breakfast table. Okay, no breakfast. He’d eat it later in the day, that’s how he’d always do it when he was having a bad day. 

Naturally, he always tried to train to take his mind off of it. Train to get stronger, be better, so nothing like that would ever happen again if he could help it. No kid would lose their parents right in front of them if he could help, they wouldn’t have to go through that. And... that worked. Most of the time. 

Pushing himself to the limits was fine; punching a bag until it almost broke was fine; defence training was okay; but whenever he tried to perform a gymnastic stunt, one he did at the curious or learned after, his mind clogged. It clogged with visions from that night: climbing up to the trapeze platform, jumping off, expecting his parents to jump to his trapeze while he jumps to theirs and the absolute terror, horror and paralysing fear that hit him when he heard the snap of the rope. 

At first, he thought it was his own rope, that was going to plummet, his own parents were going to have to watch their son fall to a painful death. So he clung on, as tight as he could, hoping it would help, but that’s when he saw what he’d never forget. His parents faces, contorted into a mix of panic, fear, horror, shock, and sadness. But they weren’t sad because Dick was falling, no, they were falling, and they knew they’d never see their son again. The last thing they were ever going to see was his solemn, defeated face as he realised they were falling. 

He couldn’t even close his eyes. He was too frozen to even bring himself to look away from what was about to happen. Watching as his parents’ bodies shook once they hit the floor, he let out a gut wrenching, agonising scream. It felt so loud, louder than anyone else’s, and it rattled around in his brain seconds after his mouth closed because he wanted to scream more. He wanted to cry out more, but he was so shaken, so upset, he had no energy in him left to scream. All he could do was sob quietly until people for him down. 

All he remembered were hands on him, bringing him down, helping him, trying to keep him away from the bodies. But he does remember fighting back, pushing against them until he got through and was at his parents’ side. He sobbed on their chests, begged them to come back until his voice cracked so much he couldn’t speak anymore, then he just sat their next to them. It was odd - in the worst way something could be - seeing his parents’ bodies carried away in a bag. Never before had Dick imagined he’d see anything like that... ever. Even with the dangers of what they did... he never thought... his own parents... it couldn’t be happening... no... no. They were gone. He was never going to see them again. 

That’s what cycled through his head every bad day he had, especially when doing gymnastics. He couldn’t help it... it always reminded him of it. Not only that... it made the guilt worse. He would train to distract himself, yet almost always made his guilt worse. Here he was, practicing tricks that his parents died before they could do. To him, that felt selfish and wrong. 

How come he gets to be here, performing tricks, practicing, using his skills when they don’t?

How is that fair? How is it not selfish?

Annoyingly, he couldn’t come up with an answer. In all his years, he’d never been able to come up with an answer. 

There was a term for that. Survivors guilt, and Dick knew he had a bad case of it. Yet despite knowing, he couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how much he tried or even talked to people about it. There was always some piece of him, some days bigger or smaller, that was consumed by survivors guilt and that would chew away at his other feeling. 

He didn’t want to die - definitely not. What he wanted was far from that anyway. In truth, he wanted to settle down, have kids of his own... but he still felt guilty he was the one who survived that night. Other performers did, but they weren’t there was that stunt. He was the only active performer who survived and he hated himself for it. 

Yes, his parents were killed, and the mobster had no need to kill their child. The punishment was their death, not his. That was why he survived. Yeah, he knew that, of course he did. But that stupid feeling of guilt over it wouldn’t go away still. 

No matter how many logical reasons he thought of that the trap was never meant to kill him, so it didn’t involve him and therefore he shouldn’t feel guilty for surviving, some part of his brain... was still determined to make him feel guilty over it. 

God! He hated it. 

One morning in particular got to him the most. Over the last week or so, he’d pulled a lot of all-nighters out on the streets, searching for the seller in a large arms deal. He’d finally caught them last night, after what felt like so long, so he managed to get home and get a good few hours of sleep. But that night, where he only wanted sleep, he’d been hit with a m nightmare. About that day and that exact moment they fell. 

So of course he woke up the next morning upset... and he didn’t really want to talk to anyone. He wished them good morning, but skipped out on breakfast and headed straight to the training room. To just get stronger... get better... anything. When he was hit with another image of his parents faking. It flashed across his brain, lingered on his eyes, and left them glassy with tears. 

They were... gone and he was here. He was still filled with so much grief he’d never had the chance to process and this guilt on top... it was too much. 

Collapsing onto his knees, he kept his head in his hands, wanting to hide his face and block put the light. He was trying to take deep breaths. In for four, out for seven. In for four, out for seven. Dick felt like there was too much light in the room. Bright and blinding. So instead of looking up and naming objects around him, he repeated his four favourite places in Gotham city over an over again. The closest coffee shop to Bruce’s house. The place he’d always order pizza from when Bruce was out. The park, which was albeit dangerous but... always relaxed him, and the hotel Donna stayed in whenever she came to visit. Sometimes that helped, sometimes it didn’t, sometimes he couldn’t even get his words out. 

Luckily for him, this time it did. 

He did that on repeat until he had control of his breathing again and managed to push past the tears. 

The fear of a panic attack had passed, but he still felt too emotional to do anything. He didn’t want to get up, and frankly, he wasn’t sure he could if he tried. Suddenly, he just felt so drained and he wanted to sit there, as long as he could until things, or at least his body he felt better. 

So... that’s exactly what he did. It’s not how he expected to spend part of his day, sure... but he stayed sitting on the floor, resting every part of him, until he felt the strength to get up. It was only really when his stomach grumbled though, because he knew he needed food. As drained and uneasy as he felt after... all that, he knew he needed food and no one would be happy if he ate nothing until the afternoon. 

He pushed himself to his feet, steadying himself when he almost fell, and made his way to the kitchen. Rachel was still there grabbing a snack... some juice and a cookie from what it looked like. Oh, and some popcorn. 

“Gar asked me to play video games with him... do you wanna join us?” Rachel asked. 

It took Dick a second to realise she was even talking to him, but once he did, he shook his head quickly. 

“No... thanks for the offer, but I’m okay,” he said softly, making his way past her to grab his leftovers from breakfast. 

“Alright, but uhm...” Rachel trailed off, half staring at Dick, half avoiding his eyes. 

“What?”

“Nothing, just enjoy your breakfast.” Rachel said, before walking away. 

Dick shrugged slightly to himself, whatever Rachel wanted to say, she’d say eventually if she wanted to tell him. He placed his food on the dinner table, and just managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

Ah. 

That’s what Rachel was going to say. He looked like shit. His eyes were red, even if he hadn’t been fully crying, he looked like he had, yet the rest of his face was pale, sickly pale. His hair was slightly disheveled and Rachel had already known he hadn’t eaten that morning... 

Slowly, he took a bite of his food when he heard someone shout his name behind him. 

“Dick!” Someone shouted, and when Dick cleared his senses enough, he realised it was Cam. “Dick!”

Dick looked down and saw Cam outside his room, as well as Rachel sneaking away from it. She must’ve told Cam he looked bad, or she thought something was wrong. Makes sense, Amore wasn’t in so... Cam might be best to distract him. Dick figured Rachel would’ve herself but she probably wanted to spend time with Gar, and he couldn’t blame her. He wanted her to have some normal teenagers years and playing video games with friends was just that. He was actually happy she did that over help him. 

But Cam was running down the corridor towards him, smiling while cuddling one of his plushies. “Dick!”

It was only then he realised he hasn’t even responded to Cam. Oops. 

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I’m listening. Go on...” he smiled, once he finished the piece of food that was in his mouth. “Go on.” 

“Will you come watch Howl’s Moving Castle with me? I don’t wanna watch it alone... unless you want to be alone and that’s fine! But I just-“

“I’ll watch it with you Cam,” he replied, cutting him off. Part of him might want to pretend to be alone, but the other part of him knows that’ll only make everything worse. He really... he really didn’t want to make anything worse right now. “Just let me finish my food and we can, okay?”

“Okies!” Cam said happily. “I’ll wait.”

“You don’t mind?” 

“No! I wanna hang out with you, it’s fun..”

“Yeah, but-“ Dick cut himself off, deciding it was better not to say that. Not right now. “Okay.. thanks. I’ll be quick.”

Dick knew the feeling inside him wasn’t going to go away. Not any time soon at least. But he couldn’t let it keep eating away at him like this, especially after seeing what he looked like in the mirror. He was a mess, and he didn’t want to be. He needed a distraction that would work, maybe even make him feel better emotionally rather than just stronger. 

That’s what Cam was offering when he said watch a movie with him, and he was pretty sure Cam was aware of what he was doing. If Rachel hadn’t told him something was wrong, and if she probably hadn’t said don’t ask him about it, cam would’ve asked by now. At least that’s what Dick thought. Maybe he was right. 

Well, he was definitely right about the first but. This was a distraction that would make him feel better, so once he was done, he washed his plate and went to Cam’s room to watch Howl’s Moving Castle. 

His feelings weren’t going away, but... this was good. For him, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! <3


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